She had worn a pelisse dress with little buttons down the front. She worked at them, wondering if buried desire had made her choose such a convenient garment. It took a long time to finish with the closures, due to her fingers trembling. Finally she let the dress slip off her shoulders and down her body. His gaze followed its descent, then slowly rose back up.

She went to work on her undergarments. The longer it took, the more nervous she became and the more clumsy her actions. He enjoyed it, she realized. That made her slow enough that her disrobing might appear more elegant. She also discovered a pleasant sensuality in revealing herself like this, layer by layer.

Down to her chemise and hose, she bent to untie the latter.

“I would prefer if you saved those for last.”

That meant becoming naked before she was done. Blatantly so, and not while in bed or even being embraced. She steeled her courage and let the chemise drop.

She looked at him, so he might think her braver than she felt. Desire had tightened his expression and fired his eyes. His gaze captured hers and a thrill spun down her body. Then another. Like rockets, each one created an explosion of arousal that sent exciting sensations raining down.

He glanced down, reminding her of the hose. She stepped over to a chair to prop up her foot, untied one, and rolled it down. The implications of her pose, of her raised leg, stirred her deeply. While she set her foot down and raised the other one she noticed he had moved slightly to where he could view her exposure better.

So aroused that she could barely stand, she untied the other stocking and began removing it. Suddenly he was there, on one knee, right in front of her. He moved her foot to his other bent knee, and his hands to the roll of the stocking.

She looked down at his strong hands slowly moving the stocking down to her knee. His head dipped and he kissed her inner thigh. High up. Then another, higher yet. So high she felt his breath on her mound like a feathering tease.

She dared not close her eyes because she feared she might stagger or fall. So she watched his crown and his hands, and felt his kisses and came close to forgetting how to breathe herself. The kisses did not stop, but somehow the stocking was gone. Still he knelt there, caressing her leg too. Then he stroked high, and slid his hand between her thighs, into the dampness and heat he had caused. One deep, secret touch and the chamber spun. She had to hold his shoulders to keep her balance while he pushed her arousal higher and higher.